Highlander in Love (Lockhart Family #3)

“Yer heathen ancestors burned Talla Dileas,” she smartly reminded him.

“Because yer traitorous ancestors betrayed the Highlanders, and besides, there was no’ much to call Talla Dileas then. And have ye forgotten that yer thieving ancestors slaughtered a herd of Douglas coos?”

“Because half were stolen from Lockharts by yer thieving ancestors! And lo how the mighty generous and fair Laird Douglas hanged two good Lockhart men on the word of a mere lad!”

“Aye…but he didna manage to hang the bloody rotten bounders before they stole a Douglas lass and had their way with her, did he, now?”

Mared clucked and waved a hand at him. “All hearsay. What of the duel between our great-grandfathers?”

“The Lockhart started it by cuckolding the Douglas.”

Mared gasped indignantly. “How dare ye impugn my great-grandfather!”

“Impugn him, my rosy red arse! He was the worst scoundrel the lochs have ever seen. And what of the duel between our grandfathers?”

A burst of gay laughter escaped her. “A Douglas started that duel over a silly game of cards! Yet ye can hardly call it a duel, for our grandfathers were so far in their cups that yer Douglas shot our Lockhart in the bum!” She laughed roundly at the tale.

Her laughter was infectious and Payton laughed, too. “There, then, Mared, do ye see how ridiculous it all is?”

“Foolish man,” she said with a warm smile. “A Douglas and a Lockhart were never meant to marry. Did ye learn nothing from yer forebearers, then? Our blood is like oil and water—we were no’ meant to mix.” She laughed again as if his foolishness amused her.

But Payton was not so amused and touched her arm with his crop. “So ye’d give me a lass whose blood will mix with mine, is that it? A lass to take yer place? Where is yer shadow, then, Mared? I thought she accompanied ye everywhere…or is it only in the kirk and Eilean Ros and the confectioner’s and walkabouts of Aberfoyle?”

Mared’s smile instantly brightened. “Do ye miss her, then, Douglas? Shall I bring her round to ye again?”

“How happy Miss Crowley must be,” he said, impertinently sliding the tip of the crop up her arm, “to have such a champion in ye. Whatever did she do to deserve it?”

She ignored the question and his crop. “Ye find her quite bonny! Go on—admit it!”

With a derisive chuckle, Payton flipped the crop onto her shoulder. “Diah, but ye are as bold as a man! Aye, she’s bonny, yer shadow…but I’ve no particular regard for her.”

“Oh? Do ye no,’ milord?” she asked, her eyes suddenly flashing. She rose up on her toes, leaned slightly toward him and said, “Ye certainly kissed her well enough for a man who has no particular regard for her,” she said softly, and with a triumphant look, settled back on her heels.

“Kissed her?” he asked, far more interested in tracing the tip of the crop along her perfect chin and up, to push her silly hat back from her face.

“Kissed her!” she shot back, slapping his crop away as her shapely dark brows dipped into a vee. “Donna deny it, ye bloody hound! Ye willna treat Miss Crowley as another of yer conquests! She’s far too good for that!”

“As usual, ye make no sense whatsoever.” He touched the tip of his crop to her nose and leaned forward as she had done, so that he was only inches away from her. “I didna kiss her—”

“Ye did!” she cried, wide-eyed now, her hands on her hips. “I saw it with my own two eyes when ye escorted her about yer ridiculously overgrown garden!”

“Have a care with yer tongue, lass,” he warned her, falling back on his heels. “The garden is no’ overgrown! ‘Tis the finest example of a manor garden in all of Scotland! And I didna kiss yer Miss Crowley there, but I will admit I was tempted, for she is indeed a bonny lass with a bonny disposition, and that, Mared Lockhart, is quite rare in this long glen!”

“So ye will deny that ye kissed her?” she demanded, clearly outraged.

“Ach!” Payton cried, casting his arms out wide in frustration. “On my honor, ye are the most vexing woman a man might ever hope to know! One moment I believe ye want me to find her bonny for all the times ye’ve put her in my path and extolled her virtues, and in the next moment, ye act as if ye are jealous that I paid her any heed at all!”

“Jealous?” she cried, and threw back her head and gave a shout of laughter that echoed in the little glen. “Ye think me jealous? Ye’ve lost yer fool mind!” she said with a grandly dismissive flick of her wrist. “Miss Crowley is a dear friend, and I only thought to inquire for her benefit and no other reason!”

But her cheeks were quite flushed, weren’t they? Damn her, she was jealous! This impossible woman, who’d given him every indication she’d just as soon see him bound up and shipped off to Australia was jealous!